


For Her Pleasure

by coyg_81, CuppaTea90, smithandbarrowman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday Gift for LaBelladonex, CharDramione, Comedy, F/M, Lemons, Multi, Post-Hogwarts, Smut, Tacky Wedding, Taking the piss, Threesome - F/M/M, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 14:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19152673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyg_81/pseuds/coyg_81, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuppaTea90/pseuds/CuppaTea90, https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandbarrowman/pseuds/smithandbarrowman
Summary: Hermione is happily married to the man of her dreams, living an idyllic life, working in the job she didn’t ever dare to imagine she ever would, but she still wonders if she’s enough. After attending the worst wedding the world has ever seen, her husband offers her a choice, and proves she is indeed… enough!





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaBelladoneX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelladoneX/gifts).



> A birthday surprise for our favourite Irish pixie - LaBelladoneX - who also happens to be one of the most delightfully wonderful people we have the pleasure of being friends with.
> 
> A great big across the world hug to our beta, TheOtterAndTheDragon, for picking up our errors, giving us some wonderful advice, and keeping us on track.
> 
> And to the amazing Sleepygrimm for once more spoiling us with her talents and giving us more of her brilliant artwork.
> 
>  
> 
> smithandbarrowman  
> coyg_81  
> Cuppatea90

****

 

**“** You are cordially invited to the wedding of Lavender Rose Brown and Seamus Devon Finnigan... “    
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. Not only were the bride and groom her two least favourite people, the enchanted invitation was horrendous; gaudy purple parchment, with pink roses that gave off a scent that was less floral and more wet dog. And the luminous green shamrocks that were rotating around the edge had a dizzying effect that made Hermione feel more than a little nauseous.     
  
“Do we have to go?” She tossed the offending parchment onto the table in disgust. “I mean, seriously, what is this? Third marriage for both of them?” 

  
Draco looked up at her, “They’re  _ your _ friends.”    
  
“Hardly.” She looked back at the invitation, “But, I guess if we go, we can visit Blaise’s new pub.”   
  
“CDDM?” Draco raised an eyebrow. His best mate had recently purchased a quaint little pub — which housed its own B and B — with the muggle woman he had just married, and the pair refused to tell anyone what the name meant. Draco suspected something sinfully devious since every time anyone mentioned it, the pair would simply look at each other and smirk.    
  
He hated to think.   
  
“I guess it’d be worth going just to have a look. And you always say you don’t get to see Blaise as much as you used to.” Hermione shrugged and hopped up onto the counter, her legs swinging freely.    
  
He leaned over and kissed her, “To see Blaise, huh? Or is it because you love his new wife?”    
  
“Maybe.” She reached across him to snag a piece of the carrot he was currently chopping. “Speaking of new wives...”

 

Draco pointed at her, “We don’t talk about that.”

 

“But the wedding was so sweet.” Her lips twitched, “I wonder what their honeymoon was like. Do you think they even left their room?” 

 

Draco groaned. “ _ Hermione _ .”

 

“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “Don’t you remember what we were like when we first got together?”

 

He shook his head. “We were nothing like them. We never did  _ that _ at work.”

 

It had been nine years since the war had ended, and despite the victory, numerous challenges had arisen. Repairing the damage to the stone walls of the castle had been a huge undertaking. Even with magic it had taken months, and the students who should have taken their exams, instead of fighting a war, were left unable to do so. 

 

The school board came to the decision to relocate the eighth year students to the hidden, magical wing of Trinity College in Dublin, and much to the surprise of all, it had been a resounding success. 

 

The following year, students were offered the opportunity to further their studies in advanced classes, an offer of which more than half took up, and Trinity Wizarding University was established. 

 

Hermione, after falling in love with the non-magical Trinity library, had taken a position with the newly established University Library as Curator of Magical Books and Artifacts. Her permanent move to Dublin had been unexpected, especially to Ron. His ultimatum to her to either stay and marry him, or leave and call it quits hadn’t worked out in his favour. 

 

She’d packed up everything she owned, sold her parents house, and made the move to Ireland. 

 

And she had never been happier. 

 

She knew she had found her calling — the stuffy politics of The Ministry that everyone assumed she loved had never held any appeal to her. But seeking out the magical books which had been hidden amongst the almost 7 million volumes in the old library had been like a dream. 

 

Draco had arrived two years later; his potion making skills were second only to Severus, and the school board had sought him out, offering him a substantial sum to relocate.

 

Awkward would have been the most adequate description of their interactions at first; curt nods, simple hellos, and general avoidance. But as the year progressed, a mutual respect grew, friendship blossomed, and eventually, love bloomed.

 

But love hadn’t only bloomed for them.

 

It had been a much slower, long drawn out romance, but the Dean and the newly appointed Professor of Advanced Muggle studies finally wed in the month just past. 

 

The pair had, over the course of the year and a half prior to the small ceremony, tried to hide their relations from the other faculty members but had failed, much to Draco’s disgust.

 

He shared an office wall with said Dean and unlike Hogwarts, the walls weren’t made of stone. 

  
  


********* *** DMHG *** ********

  
  


The sound of laughter made Draco look up — a loud, girly giggle that startled him. 

 

He stared at the wall. The laugh was familiar. He’d not ever heard it, however, coming from the office next door.

 

_ Were the rumours true?  _

 

Sirius Black had narrowly missed the curse which should have killed him during the war, and with that close escape came a new version of the man.

 

At Harry’s prodding, Sirius assisted the eighth years with their Defence Against the Dark Arts exams, and the Board of Governors had been so impressed, they offered him the position of Dean of the University, a position he took up without hesitation. The former Hogwarts misfit quickly became a favourite of everyone on the small campus, none more so than the Muggle woman who had been appointed as Professor of Advanced Muggle studies.

 

The Ministry had concluded that the Muggle world still wasn’t entirely safe from those in the wizarding world who wished them harm. So, along with the new University, they established a more in-depth department to liaise with Muggle governments across the globe, therefore computers and phones and the like were necessary. 

 

The Ministry also came to the realisation that a Muggle professor would be required, since no wizard or witch had ever needed such contraptions and didn’t have a clue where to begin with them. 

 

And now, Draco suspected  _ that _ very Muggle was the one laughing in the office next door, laying claim to the rumours that the Dean and the Professor were more than just colleagues. And the fact that Sirius had been spotted more than once in the small village in which the Professor lived pretty much confirmed that fact. 

 

A muffled voice sounded and the laughter came again. 

 

“You have your frowny face on,” Hermione said from the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

 

“ _ Shhhh _ .” Draco hissed, then whispered for her to ‘get inside and shut the door.’

 

She did as he asked, and crossed the room to stand beside him. “Why are we whispering?”

 

Draco opened his mouth to answer, but another peal of laughter sounded through the wall. Hermione’s head snapped towards the sound. 

 

“Is that..?” Hermione’s eyes grew wide. 

 

“I think so.” 

 

_ “Oh, Sirius, I’m not sure we can do that here. _ ” The voice that spoke was unmistakably Irish, and unlike the rough Dublin accent that made Draco cringe every time Finnigan opened his mouth, this accent was very posh. 

 

“ _ No one will ever know.”  _ Sirius’ low voice reverberated through the wall and Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. 

 

“This is not funny, Hermione.” Draco reached for his wand. 

 

Hermione grabbed his arm, stopping him. “No, wait.”

 

“You want to hear this?”

 

“It might  _ not _ be her.”

 

“ _ Hermione _ ,” Draco warned, “We are not listening to them if they’re…”   
  


She wiggled her eyebrows at him, “If they’re…  _ what _ ?”   
  


He ignored her and cast a silencing charm. She rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist, countering the spell. They were met with silence and Draco let out a relieved breath.    
  


“Maybe they’re just kissing?” Hermione suggested when the silence stretched on.    
  


“One can only hope that’s—“ Draco began but stopped and stared wide-eyed at his wife.   
  


The sound that came from the other side of the wall was unmistakable.   
  


“Did he just..?” Hermione turned back to the wall.     
  


“ _ Oh, yes! Sirius, yes. I’ve been a bad girl. _ ”   
  


“ _ Yes, my little Irish pixie, you have. _ ” Sirius’ voice was low and rough, and the loud slap of a hand landing on bare skin sounded again.

 

“ _ Oh, Sirius, that’s...oh fuck! More…” _

 

Another loud spanking sound was followed by a deep, guttural growl.

 

Draco aimed his wand at the wall at the exact moment Hermione flicked her wrist in the air, both dousing the room in silence.

 

They blinked at each other in disbelief. 

 

“Umm, that was...” Hermione turned back to the wall. “I thought the rumours were fictitious.”

 

“Clearly not.” Draco grimaced, “And I have a meeting with him in an hour, how am I supposed to look him in the eye?”

 

“Oh, come on,” Hermione draped her arm around Draco’s shoulders, “It’s not that bad. He won’t know that you heard anything.” She paused, struggling to keep her face straight, “But… tell him you need pixie wings for a potion. Preferably Irish ones.”

 

He glared at her, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

 

“No,” Hermione threw her head back and howled with laughter, “But _ she  _ is.”

 

Draco groaned and leaned his head in his hands, “I wonder if the basement office is still available.”

 

The permanent  _ Silencing _ charm in Draco’s office had held solid ever since, and for the last year and a half had become his saving grace.

  
  


********* *** DMHG *** *********

  
  


Hermione laughed at the look of disgust on her husbands face. “Not your style? Office sex?”

 

“No.” 

 

“Passenger seat of a car sex?”

 

Draco smirked, “ _ You _ were entirely responsible for that adventure.”

 

She twisted her lips, hesitating. “Sex with two women at the same time?”   
  


He made a choking sound. “Excuse me?”   
  


She snatched another slice of carrot and then grinned, “Two women at once, have you?”   
  


Draco put the knife down, lest he slice off his fingers, and turned to face her. “Where is  _ that _ coming from?”   
  


She shrugged, “Just curious.”   
  


He shot her a look that said he didn’t believe her for a minute, and a tiny muscle in her jaw twitched. “We’ve been together for five years, married for three of those, and you’ve never once asked me this. So why are you asking me now?”

  
She chewed the piece of carrot slowly, looking at him like he was deliberately avoiding her question.    
  


“Have you ever been with two women at the same time?” she asked again.   
  


“Why are you asking me?” He crossed his arms over his chest, stubbornly refusing to answer until she told him why she wanted to know.   
  


She pursed her lips and stared back at him, equally as stubborn, and the standoff began, neither of them wanting to give an inch.   
  


Draco shrugged, turning back to the counter and picking up the knife. Her eyes were on him, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t divulge anything until he knew why she was suddenly interested in his sexual past when she’d not once enquired previously.   
  


The silence stretched on, broken only by the sound of the knife cutting through vegetables, until at last, she huffed out a breath.   
  


“Last weekend when I was with the girls they were talking about it,” she finally told him. “Ginny said she hasn’t, but Daphne said she and Theo had had a…  _ um _ … third one time, but decided it wasn’t for them. And Pansy. Well, she’s Pansy.” She paused, nervously running her thumb along the side-seam of her jeans. “I haven’t, and I was curious if you had.”   
  


Draco put the knife down once more and turned back to her. It still astounded him what women talked about. And he thought it would have been Ginny convincing Potter to…  _ indulge _ in a threesome, not Daphne with Theo. 

 

And Pansy. He knew about Pansy.

 

“I have.” He said honestly. “Is that an issue?”   
  


“No.” She shook her head and then shrugged, “I guess... no.”   
  


He moved to stand in front of her, placing his hands on her knees. “Hermione, it was a long time ago. I was nineteen, and I was experimenting. And it was only a few times. Nothing serious, just some fun with no expectations.”    
  


She nodded and then smiled, “I don’t care, really I don’t. It’s just that I’ve never done anything like that. I’ve never even thought about it.” She shrugged, “I guess I’m just on the vanilla side of life.”   
  


He ran his hands higher along her thighs, “I don’t think that’s true. What I’ve seen of you is far from vanilla. We had sex in a car, remember?” 

 

“But everyone does that.”

 

His hands slid to her hips and he pulled her to the edge of the counter. “Not everyone. If it wasn’t for you, that would never have occurred.”

 

“I’m sure you would have found your way into a car eventually.” She watched as his fingers easily slipped each button on her shirt free. “Are we not eating?”

 

“Oh, we are.” He wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing her. “I’m just hungry for something else.”

 

Hermione laughed and tugged his t-shirt over his head. “Hungry for  _ cheese _ ?”

 

He leaned in, planting wet kisses across the swells of her breasts. “No.” He bit down gently, pulling a gasp from her lungs. “I’m hungry for that sweet pussy of yours.”

 

“ _ Hmmm _ ,” she murmured, her head dropping back as Draco dragged his tongue along her neck. “How hungry?”

 

“Starving.” He slid his hands under her arse and whispered in her ear, “Where do you want me to fuck you?”

 

She peeked over his shoulder, “Right there. Right on the table.” 

  
“The table? Right where we eat? Right where we serve dinner when we have company?” He chuckled against her throat, “How very  _ un _ -vanilla of you, Mrs. Malfoy.”

 

Draco lifted her easily and carried her across the room, plopping her onto the edge of the table. He cleared the surface with an impatient shove of his arm, plates sliding to the floor, smashing against the tile, and splintering into a million pieces.

 

He gripped her shoes in both hands, pulling them from her feet at once. Her jeans followed, the button and zipper undone in record time, her hips lifting off the wooden surface as his hands yanked them down her legs. 

 

Stepping between her thighs, he kissed her with a hunger that had her growing wet and slick, and wondering why he’d left her panties on. She wanted him inside her body, and she wanted him now. 

 

She unfastened the top of his jeans, but he gripped her wrists, pulling her hands away.   
  


“Draco,” she whined. “ _ Please _ . I need you to—“   
  


He cut her off with his mouth on hers, kissing her once more with the fierce possessiveness that always made her toes curl.    
  


He released her hands and reached behind her, unclasping her bra. He slowly slid the straps down her arms and stepped back to look at her. 

 

“Mrs. Malfoy,” his lips curled into a devious smile. “You look good enough to eat.”

 

She reached out and traced her hand over his pecs, drawing one finger down the centre of his chest, across his abs and stopping at the open fly of his jeans.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, where did you want to start?” 

 

Dropping to his knees, he ran his palm up the inside of her thigh, brushing his thumb over a spot through her panties. “I think I’ll start here.” 

 

He pressed his thumb against her again, circling over the lace. Her head dropped back as she let out a long, contented sigh. 

 

He pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her thigh. “You like that?” 

 

“ _ Mmm-hmm. _ ” She hummed and slid a hand through his hair. 

 

He pushed aside her panties and blew a long breath against her wet slit. She swore, and fell back against the table with a thud.

 

Hermione’s breath caught as his fingers spread her open and he buried his face in her pussy, closing his mouth over her, kissing her with the same urgency as if he were kissing her mouth.

 

“Draco,” She moaned and lifted her feet to rest on his shoulders, a heavy shudder rolling along her spine. 

 

He hummed against her soaked skin and sucked her clit into his mouth, causing her to cry out and jerk against his face. 

 

With hard, persistent strokes of his tongue, he dragged her to the edge of an orgasm, but never let her fall. Again and again he teased, and each time he knew she was close, he pulled back and pressed his lips to her thigh, waiting for her need to release to subside.

 

“Draco…  _ please _ .” She whined, “Please don’t stop.”

 

He chuckled and grazed his teeth across her thigh. “I don’t plan to.”

 

Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he dragged them over her hips, and dropped the sodden lace to the floor. 

 

With his mouth back on her, he slipped two fingers deep inside her, and she pushed against his hand, chasing the delicious friction his thick fingers were slowly building. 

 

Her body began trembling and she cried out, reaching down and grabbing a fistful of his hair. 

 

He continued to tease her as she rocked her hips against his face. His tongue was perfect, flicking and circling; the sound of his fingers fucking her drenched pussy filled the room. 

 

Her body was wound tight, and she began to throb against his mouth but he didn’t slow down. She pressed closer, begging him with her body for more. Her hands gripped him tighter, her heels digging into his shoulders. 

 

“Come, Hermione...” He demanded against her intimate flesh, pressing his fingers into her in a  deep, hard thrust. “Come… now.”

 

A sharp sound tore from her throat and pleasure roared through her like a flame - rich, raw, and powerful, and leaving her shuddering in its wake.

 

Draco kissed her smooth skin once more before rising and shoving his jeans down his legs. He smiled at the sight before him. Her flushed skin, tightened nipples, rumpled hair. She was perfection, and he wasn’t nearly done. 

 

Gently pulling her hips towards the edge of the table, he braced himself on one hand so he could cup her breast with the other.

 

“You are anything but vanilla, Mrs. Malfoy.” His mouth dropped to her nipple, placing a light kiss to the hardened peak. “You are magnificent.” He kissed the dip between her breasts. “You are lavish.” He kissed her other nipple. “You are sin.”

 

He sucked her nipple hard and tight, her body rising from the table as sensation shot through her. 

 

“You like that?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before moving his mouth back to her neglected breast.

 

“Oh! Please! Draco, more!” Her hands gripped frantically at his shoulders, wanting the weight of him over her, wanting his mouth on hers. 

 

He came down over her, his chest rubbing against her breasts, and claimed her, his tongue sliding against hers in an almost savage mating of mouths. Hermione’s arms circled his shoulders, gasping as he shifted between her thighs, his erection settling against the warm, wet slip of skin where his mouth had just been.

 

Her legs wrapped around his hips, holding him to her and he began to rock against her parted flesh, the heavy length of him sparking jolts of pleasure through her with each slide across her clit. 

 

“Draco!” 

 

Hermione’s scream echoed around the kitchen, her body bowing beneath him. His mouth went to her neck, sucking at the straining muscles, feeling the pleasure roll through her, and causing him to fight his own need to release.

 

Her eyes fluttered shut, remaining closed for several long seconds. Her breathing was ragged, her skin shone with a layer of perspiration. Draco kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, waiting for her body to calm. He brushed her hair from her face and she forced her eyes open, smiling lazily up at him. 

 

Kissing her gently, he returned her smile. “I love the way you scream my name.”   
  


Then he started moving again, nudging the tip of his erection against her and pushing slowly into the silky-soft heat between her legs.    
  


“Wait,” she groaned and pressed her hand to his chest. “Too much. I can’t.”   
  


Every fibre of his being told him to just take her, plunge into her and drive her over the edge again. But he held back, stilling, pressing his hips to hers, and circling her head with his arms.   
  


“I know you can,” he whispered. “Tell me when.”   
  


He kept everything easy, kissing her gently, whispering quietly in her ear, until her breathing eased, and she looked up at him with renewed desire in her eyes.    
  


He caught her lips in another sweet kiss. “Ready?”    
  


Hermione smiled up at him and nodded, and he started moving, deep and slow, again and again, building the friction inside her. She reached up, threading her hands through his hair, and pulled his mouth down to hers. She rolled her hips, meeting his slow movements, and he knew that now she was ready.    
  


He pulled almost completely out of her and then surged back in. She tore her mouth from his, crying out as he began to drive into her, hard and fast. She melted into him, unable to meet his movements, simply allowing him to chase his own need, his own hunger.    
  


Her body started to shake and Draco slipped a hand between them, finding the throbbing nub that would push her over once more. He pressed his thumb down hard, and her scream once more filled the room.    
  


He rode her orgasm, her body clenching, tightening, pulsating round him, until he could barely breathe. His body shuddered and he let out a rough groan, grabbing her chin and bringing her mouth to his, as he released inside her. 

  
Hours later, Draco lay awake watching Hermione sleep, his mind continually looping back to the conversation of earlier in the evening. 

 

Why she thought she wasn’t adventurous when it came to sex confounded him. She had been incredible from the very first time. It may not have been the wildness of his youth, but she always managed to surprise him — the shower, the couch, the one time in the back garden under the stars. The frantic times when she could barely wait until they were in the door and would demand he fuck her against the wall. 

 

But even more so, he loved the quiet times with her. Those times she would simply stare into his eyes while he loved her. Those times she would fall asleep with her head in his lap. And those times when he just wanted to curl around her while they slept. 

 

Intimacy. Adoration. Love. 

 

Chemistry.

 

That’s what he had. And it was all with the one person he always thought completely unattainable, and it was so much more than he ever hoped to have. 

 

But did she want more? Did she want to experience something new, something different? Was that why she’d asked him the question she had? 

 

He rolled to his back and stared into the darkness. If it was what she wanted, he would give it to her. He would give her anything she asked for. 

 

But the question was: who? 


	2. Chapter Two

Pansy cursed, loudly, turning the heads of several people around them. 

 

“Is this a joke?”

 

“No,” Draco said. “This most certainly isn’t.” 

 

“I’m actually speechless.” She stared at Draco in disbelief. “Why… why would you... this is… NO!”

 

“Come on, Pans.” He stared straight back at her, “It’ll be something different. I’m sure that we’ll all enjoy it.”

 

“Enjoy it?” She spluttered. “ _ Enjoy it? _ What the hell is wrong with you? There is no possible way we’ll enjoy it. It will be awkward and uncomfortable, and we’ll see things that we’ll never be able to unsee.” She shook her head and shuddered,  “And when it’s over, we’ll have to drown ourselves in more alcohol than there is on the planet to forget it ever happened!”

 

Draco snorted and watched as Pansy’s face screwed up in disgust. He didn’t blame her, the scene in front of them was abysmal. 

 

They’d rounded the entrance to the wedding venue only to freeze in shock. The thought of the old industrial warehouse in Bermondsey had conjured images that had made Pansy shudder, but nothing could prepare any of them for what they’d found when they arrived. 

 

Large shamrock arrangements arched over the door, interwoven with sprigs of lavender and pink roses. The combination gave off the same smell as the invitations had, and Draco found himself trying not to gag from the overwhelming stench invading his nostrils. 

 

Inside, the room was littered with low benches and piles of pillows all in the same gaudy colours of green, lavender, and shocking pink. At one end of the room, a rainbow wedding arch stood, a pot of gold at each end with ‘You’re my pot of gold’ written across it. The letters were enchanted to shimmer between pink and green, creating a ripple effect that induced nausea if looked at for too long.

 

Pansy was right, there was not enough alcohol on the planet to unsee the disaster that this wedding was going to be. 

 

“Oh this is just - what were they thinking?!” Ginny stepped into the room gingerly, surveying the spectacle before her. “It looks worse than a cheap brothel.”

 

Draco felt a hand on his back and turned just in time to see Hermione’s jaw drop to the floor. He raised an eyebrow at her, barely holding back a smirk. 

 

“Well, I should’ve expected it from the invitation, but only Lavender could have imagined this!” Hermione’s eyes bulged as she noticed the tiny shamrocks, raining down on them from the enchanted ceiling. 

 

“I need more vodka to survive this.” Pansy said as she stalked off towards the bar. 

 

“Not interested in hiring Lavender as an event planner for our next party, then?” Draco laughed at the look of horror on Hermione’s face. “C’mon, let’s go get a drink. Pansy’s right, we’re going to need a lot more alcohol to get through this. I heard whispers of Irish dancing.”

 

Many of the guests had much the same reaction as they filtered through the door. Trying to settle themselves into the seating however proved difficult, with many finding they ended up practically lying down, struggling to preserve their modesty. And the closeness of whomever they were seated next to proved to be yet another level of discomfort. 

 

Pansy was currently swearing like a sailor, as she found herself basically lying on top of Dean Thomas, the pillow arrangement rolling them both into the centre. 

 

Draco was grateful that he and Hermione had found a two-seater bench on which to sit, thus keeping them away from Lavender’s and Seamus’ questionable relatives. Harry and Ginny had remained standing; Harry’s disgusted refusal to ‘sit on the fucking floor’ had Draco chuckling.

 

“Wow, I didn’t actually think it could get worse…” Hermione whispered to Draco, nudging him in the ribs as she nodded towards the door. 

 

The Irish band in the corner had started up and people were rolling off pillows and scrambling to stand as Lavender entered the room, reclined on a chaise, carried by six men dressed as leprechauns. She waved to the guests as if she was the Queen as she passed. Draco had to stuff his fist against his mouth to stop a bark of laughter as he looked over to see Pansy throw her hand over her face in revulsion.    

 

Lavender’s procession led its way to Seamus who was dressed in an emerald morning suit, complete with top hat, beaming at his bride from under the arch. 

 

As Lavender was lowered to the floor and clumsily stood, she paused for a moment to let the room take in her dress. She wore a baby blue, boat neck, princess ball gown that had a ruffle frill over the back, accentuating her large arse. The bust of the dress featured gemstones in the pattern of a ‘L’ and ‘S’ monogrammed in the centre.

 

This was quite possibly the tackiest wedding Draco had ever witnessed. Seamus and Lavender had literally taken almost every Irish stereotype and squashed it into their wedding, twisting it with Lavender’s favourite colours of pink and purple. It made his eyes hurt. 

 

A nervous silence descended as Lavender took her place next to Seamus, their hands joining, and a look of what no one could deny was anything but salaciousness exchanged between the two. 

 

“I hope they wait for us all to leave before they rip their clothes off.” Draco whispered in Hermione’s ear as they seated themselves back on their bench. She slapped his arm but he could see her laughing behind her hand and chuckled. 

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry muttered from behind them, and they both refused to turn to look at him for fear they would burst into fits of laughter. 

 

The officiant had stepped out from behind the large floral display that was serving as a backdrop to the hideous rainbow. And he, like the men who had carried Lavender into the room, was also dressed as a leprechaun - buckled boots, short pants, red beard, and all.

 

“Top o’ the evening to ye’,” The accent that emanated from him was thicker than Seamus’ and Draco wasn’t the only one in the room who cringed. “Let’s get yers married.”

 

“Do you think he’s going to get through this without any… issues?” Ginny leaned over and whispered to them both. “He’s enjoying Lavender’s boobs a little too much, I think.”

 

Hermione shook her head; Ginny was right. As if this farce couldn’t get any worse, the officiant was staring directly at Lavender’s chest, and those short pants were a little too tight to hide what he was really thinking. 

 

And their vows were equally as farcical.

 

“I, Seamus, take you Lavender, to be me wife. You really put the ring in purring and so I promise to love you in all ways, to cherish your mind and worship yer body.” Seamus smirked, clearly thinking he was the funniest man on the planet as he slid the ring onto her finger.

 

“I, Lavender, take you Seamus to be my husband. I promise to adore you every day, to honour your soul and devour your body, ‘til debt us do part.” She smiled coyly up at him, licking her lips as she, too, slid her ring for him onto his hand.

 

“I now pronounce ye, husband and wife. Boyo, kiss yer bride!” The officiant clapped his hands together, still grinning at Lavender’s boobs.

 

Seamus took his new wife, bent her back and thrust his tongue directly into her mouth. At the moment their lips met, the pots at the end of the rainbow arch began shooting gold confetti over the couple. 

 

The scattered groans around the room were barely concealed as the kiss went on and on. Hermione had to bury her face in Draco’s shoulder at Ginny’s louder than appropriate curse, as Seamus’ hand gave Lavender’s breast a firm squeeze. 

 

Only the bride and groom’s mothers seemed oblivious to the horror show in front of them. Tears of joy were streaming down each of their faces as Seamus’ mother declared that Lavender was the ‘definition of pure radiance,’ at the same moment Lavender’s mother pronounced that Seamus was the ‘gentleman her daughter so deserved.’

 

“For the love of Merlin, get  _ off _ !” 

 

Draco looked over to see that Dean had fallen on top of Pansy in his attempt to stand and was now being rather harshly kicked off her. He went over and helped the Gryffindor to his feet before extending a hand to Pansy. “Come on, before you start drawing all the attention.” 

 

“Hah! As if that could happen in the middle of this mess. Who does Lavender think she’s kidding wearing blue? In Irish tradition, it symbolises purity - that girl hasn’t been pure since fourth year when I caught Weasley plowing into her in the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. I could hear Myrtle screeching from down the corridor, stuck my head in to see what was going on, and then… Ugh, I need another drink. What’s stronger than vodka?”

  
  
  
  


If they all had thought the ceremony was bad, they were in for a shock when the reception got started. 

 

The traditional Irish band had long ago fled the scene, and in its place a DJ had set up and was pumping out bassy tracks that left the dance floor glaringly empty. The bride and groom were conspicuously absent; the guests who had decided it would be impolite to leave so early occupied themselves with the free bar, trying not to think about it. 

 

Suddenly, the music fell silent and the lights dimmed. 

 

“Oh, Merlin, now what?” Draco was growing impatient with this travesty of a wedding. It was like being trapped in a circus. 

 

Bright spotlights centred on the dance floor, highlighting Padma and Parvati. The two bridesmaids were still dressed in their evergreen dresses, textured pink roses covering —

 

“Oh god, Gin, the lights. Look at what it’s doing to their dresses.” Hermione nudged her friend, biting her lip to stem the laughter. 

 

The girls’ dresses had turned translucent with the bright lights shining on them, their modesty only protected by the roses that wrapped around their body in what Hermione saw was strategic placement. 

 

A beat started thumping and the twins began wiggling their hips in time to the music. The lights moving in time to the music created a cheap nightclub atmosphere. As the tempo built, the girls began moving towards the guests, gathering them around the dance floor in a semi circle. 

 

The music stopped again and the room plunged into darkness. 

 

“The party don’t start ‘til I walk in,” Lavender’s screeching voice came out over the speakers. 

 

Hermione couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped. “It’s a Muggle song… Oh this is going to be brilliant!” 

 

A green spotlight lit up the middle of the dance floor, and Seamus was there, sitting on a chair. His shirt had several buttons missing, his jacket was apparently lost, and his hair was sticking up in all directions. He even had lipstick smeared all over his neck. 

 

A remixed version of Kesha’s ‘Tik Tok’ began playing, and the other end of the semi circle lit up in purple and pink lights. 

 

Lavender was swaying her hips, still in her wedding dress, eyes locked with Seamus. 

 

_ ‘Trying to get a little bit tipsy’ _

 

Lavender’s head lolled in a circle Hermione assumed was supposed to be sexy, before she ripped the skirt of her dress off, throwing it towards Seamus. 

 

“Oh Merlin…” Harry put his hands over his eyes as Dean Thomas let out a loud “Whoop” from the other side of the room.

 

Lavender was now standing in the top half of her dress and a deep green mini skirt, decorated with the same textured roses as the bridesmaids’ dresses. She began strutting towards Seamus, trying to sashay her hips as she licked her lips in the same manner as a dog licks its dinner from its nose. 

 

She reached Seamus’ chair and thrust her foot between his legs, bending over, revealing her lack of underwear to half the guests, whilst the other half got an eyeful of her boobs. 

 

_ ‘Boys trying to touch my junk, junk’ _

 

Lavender spun around and ground her arse into Seamus’ crotch.

 

“Awh yeah, Lav! Give it t’me!” Seamus gleefully shouted as he grabbed her arse, giving it a little smack as she walked away. He shuffled in his seat, rubbing his crotch with his hand as he did so. 

 

_ ‘Don’t stop, make it pop’ _

 

The remaining top part of Lavender’s wedding dress flew off and landed on Anthony Goldstein’s face. Dean made a grab for it, sniffing the garment as he did so. Hermione felt bile rise in her throat.

 

Lavender was left standing in a strapless leprechaun costume, the silk material stretching across her chest, clearly too small and making her breasts practically spill out. The buttons down the front were charmed, glittering shamrocks spinning in separate directions making Hermione sway slightly if she looked too long. 

 

_ ‘You got me now’ _

 

Lavender suddenly dropped down into a deep squat and spread her legs, baring herself to them all. 

 

“RIGHT! THAT’S IT - I’M OUT!” Pansy shouted before practically running out the door, with Draco, Hermione, Harry, Ginny and a long line of guests hot on her heels.

  
  


* * *

  
  
“Did that really happen?” 

 

Hermione and Draco were at Blaise’s pub, sitting at the bar, both looking stunned as they retold Blaise the events of the evening. 

 

“If I see another fake leprechaun ever again, it’ll be too soon,” Draco said with a shake of his head. “A real leprechaun wouldn’t have touched that fiasco with a  hobbit foot.”

 

“I’m not sure why you’re both so shocked,” Blaise poured two more drinks and placed them in front of his shell-shocked friends. “You’re aware of whose wedding invite you accepted.”

 

Draco downed the scotch in one go and shuddered. “We’re well aware. However, none of us expected to see as much of Lavender as she was willing to show us.”

 

Blaise paused as he refilled Draco’s glass. “What?”

 

“Oh, it was quite the show she gave us,” Hermione chimed in. “Quite. The. Show.”

 

“So, it  _ was _ the worst wedding of the year?”

 

Hermione spun around, immediately recognising the voice. 

 

“Charlie?” She stood and engulfed him. “What are you doing here?”

 

He returned her hug, “Oh, I hear this is  _ the _ place to be seen, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

 

He nodded at Blaise and then shook Draco’s hand, the pair exchanging a look that Hermione didn’t miss.

 

“Oh, you’re here to talk about work, aren’t you?” She resumed her spot at the bar and rolled her eyes. “Dragon scales or blood?”

 

“Neither,” Charlie said with a laugh. ”I came back to see a friend, that’s all, and was told all about this place. So I thought I’d take a look.”

 

Draco sat back down and Charlie took the empty barstool on the other side of her. 

 

“No work talk, I promise,” Draco kissed her cheek. “Although, Charlie did recently catch a Peruvian Vipertooth…” 

 

Hermione spun on her seat to stare at Charlie. “How… When… How?” 

 

“Six weeks ago. And it took a fair amount of luck,” Charlie told her, and thanked Blaise for his drink. “I’m surprised Draco didn’t tell you sooner.”

 

She turned on Draco, who had narrowed his eyes at Charlie. “You knew?”

 

“I make potions, remember? I need to know if rare ingredients become available.” 

 

“Charlie doesn’t  _ kill _ dragons.” She said pointedly making Charlie laugh.

 

“Well aware. But this one had just shed scales, and Charlie managed to draw some blood from it.” 

 

“Shed scales?” Hermione could barely keep her excitement in check. “So it’s a juvenile vipertooth then?”

 

“You’re too smart,  _ darlin _ ’.” Charlie winked at her and grinned. 

 

Draco’s fingers found the back of her neck, and a shiver ran down her spine. The shift was subtle, but Charlie’s innocuous gesture had Draco’s possessive side rearing its head. She leaned back into him, silently reassuring him that her schoolgirl crush on Charlie was just that; a crush. 

 

Draco finished his drink and placed the glass heavily back on the bar — a clear indication that he was annoyed. 

 

“Sorry to cut this short, but…” his fingers pressed firmly against her skin. “Are you ready?” 

 

Hermione nodded and stood. “Good night, Charlie.”

 

He grinned, looking past her to Draco, “I’m hoping it is.”

 

She missed the smirk that crossed Draco’s face, and looked at Charlie in confusion when he followed them up the stairs.

 

“Are you staying here, Charlie?”

 

“Possibly.” He said with a short nod.

 

“What—?”

 

Draco stopped at the door that read B3 — the best room, Blaise had told them — and pulled her to him. “Hermione, you told me you didn’t think you were adventurous, and you somehow believe that you’re less because you think you haven’t had any out of the ordinary sex.” He cupped her face and kissed her. “You asked me if I’d ever been with two women at once…” 

 

Hermione’s eyes grew wide as comprehension dawned on her. She turned her head slowly to look over her shoulder at Charlie, who was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

 

“You have a decision to make,” Draco turned her around to face Charlie and slipped his arms around her waist. “You and I can go in there — just the two of us — and as always, I will devour you.” He kissed the side of her neck. “Or we can invite Charlie to join us, and you can experience your every fantasy.”

 

Her fingers dug into Draco’s arm. “Why didn’t you tell me before we got here?”

 

Draco chuckled against her shoulder. “Because you would have spent too many hours over-analysing why you should or shouldn’t do this.”

 

Hermione stared at Charlie, who pushed away from the wall and moved to stand in front of her. 

 

“Draco’s right,” Charlie lifted his hand to cup her jaw and ran his thumb across her lip. “You would have talked yourself out of this. But you can still say no, and I’ll walk away. No hard feelings.”

 

She felt her heartbeat quicken at the thought of them both. Her schoolgirl crush on Charlie still had life it seemed, and the thought of seeing them both naked and devouring her was enough to convince herself that she definitely wanted to invite Charlie into their room. 

 

“Draco, are you sure?”

 

“Hmm,” he hummed against her shoulder. “Am I sure I want to watch you shatter on both of us, filled completely? Absolutely, I am. I want to hear your pleasure as I give you this.”

 

Charlie stepped closer, his mouth hovering close to her ear. “It’s been my dream to taste you since the first time I saw you.” His fingers ran down her arm. “What do you say Hermione? Will you let me be a part of your fantasy?”

 


	3. Chapter Three

Hermione could scarcely breathe.

 

She had never dreamed that her questioning Draco two months ago would ever lead to her standing in a room with the two men she currently was. 

 

Draco’s arm was still snaked tightly around her waist, but rather than being possessive, she could feel the rising need within him. 

 

And Charlie. 

 

Charlie was standing in front of her, looking like he was ready to shove Draco aside and claim ownership of her. 

 

He stepped closer — his fingers trailing down her arm again — just as Draco’s lips pressed against her shoulder. 

 

“This is all for you,” Charlie’s mouth descended on her other shoulder, “You have us both at your mercy. Tell us what you want, and we promise to leave you satisfied.” 

 

Draco’s mouth abruptly left her shoulder and a harsh breath washed over her skin. “One rule, Weasley.” His voice was tight, demanding. “You can’t finish inside my wife.” 

 

Charlie looked up at him, and Hermione saw the knowing exchange pass between them.  She  _ was _ Draco’s wife, and the privilege of being the one to fill her was his and his alone. And she was silently grateful for Draco’s request. She loved him, and only him. This was just a fantasy that had no strings attached. And as much as she wanted this night, Charlie would simply be a pleasant memory after it was all done, but that was it. 

 

Hermione reached her arm around Draco’s neck and turned her head to kiss him. She felt Charlie’s hand press against her collar and slide slowly down between her breasts. But she ignored it. She wanted one moment with Draco, wanted to reassure him that no matter what happened in this room, she was his.

 

“Fuck, Pages, I’ve barely touched you and you feel more incredible than I ever imagined.”

 

Hermione smiled against Draco’s mouth. 

 

_ Pages _ . 

 

It was Charlie's nickname for her from the time they first met. Her nose had been in a book and she had barely registered his presence when he arrived at The Burrow all those years ago. He’d laughingly called her the apt name and it had stuck.

 

Although, it had been years since she’d heard it, and rather than the somersaults her heart used to do at hearing him calling her that name, she now simply felt a fond warmth at the title.

 

She broke the kiss with Draco and smiled up at him, holding his gaze for several seconds. He kissed the tip of her nose, letting her know that this was perfect, that he knew what she was silently telling him. 

 

She turned back to Charlie in time to see him shrugging out of his well-worn leather jacket, leaving him in just the soft, grey shirt that hugged his torso perfectly.

 

Draco shifted behind her and she glanced back to see him removing his suit jacket and loosening the cuffs on his shirt. She began to reach for the zipper on her dress, but both men stopped her.

 

“No,” Draco said gently and covered her hand with his. “Let us do that.”

 

She nodded, a tiny flash of nerves swirling inside her. She was clearly the odd one out. Draco had been in this situation, and going by his reaction, so had Charlie. 

 

“Don't be nervous. Just enjoy this, and let us enjoy you.” Charlie stepped close to her and cupped her jaw with his calloused hands. His eyes were the ocean; fathomless blue and carrying a depth of emotion as raw as the sand upon which the waves crashed. “May I kiss you?”

 

Hermione nodded her consent and he smiled, leaning in slowly and kissing her softly. Considering the situation, she was slightly taken aback at how gentle Charlie was being. She had expected him to be more forceful, but his mouth remained slow and gentle, and she couldn’t help but reach her hand to his chest.

 

She heard the zipper lower on her dress, and pulled away from Charlie, who looked past her to grin at Draco.

 

“Charlie, this is my wife.” Draco’s hands moved to Hermione’s shoulders and slowly pushed her straps down her arms, “And she is exquisite.”

 

Her dress drifted to the floor, leaving her standing in black lace. 

 

“ _ Mmmm _ ,” Charlie hummed, his eyes roaming slowly over Hermione’s near-naked figure. “Truly you are a fortunate man.”

 

Draco’s hands squeezed her hips, sliding up her ribs and cupping her breasts. She sighed, and leaned back into him, only realising that he had removed his shirt when his warm skin pressed against her back. 

 

Draco slipped Hermione’s bra straps down her arms before gliding his fingers around the back to undo the clasp. As the bra loosened, a rush of sudden nerves hit her, and Hermione’s hands came up to cover her chest.

 

“Let go,” Draco whispered into her ear, his warm breath making her shiver. “Let Charlie see your amazing breasts.”

 

Hermione swallowed nervously before removing her hands, watching Charlie’s eyes move down to her chest as Draco plucked the lace from her skin, dropping it at his feet.

 

“Draco is correct. You truly are exquisite,” Charlie murmured, his own hands undoing the shirt he had on, revealing his broad, muscular chest and toned abs. 

 

Hermione was mesmerised by the array of tattoos that littered his skin, interspersed with different scars and the odd burn mark.

 

“Charlie,” she breathed, enthralled as she watched a Norwegian Ridgeback swipe its tail across his left pectoral. “They move.”

 

“They do. You can touch him.”

 

Hermione reached for him, her fingers smoothing across the body of the large dragon, watching as it turned its head and roared. She had no idea tattoos could do that.

 

“Magical,” he grinned, shivering slightly at her warm touch, as his shirt hit the ground.    

 

Draco dropped to his knees behind his wife, his fingers reaching under the elastic of her lace underwear and slowly sliding them down her legs. His hands roamed up the back of her calves and thighs, his thumbs at the juncture, encouraging her to move her legs apart before standing back up.

 

Hermione’s chest was heaving with erratic breaths as she was bared to the auburn-haired man in front of her. 

 

Charlie moved to undo the belt on his trousers, watching Draco’s hands slide around Hermione’s slim hips, his fingers digging into one as the other slid over her mons and down into her slippery folds.

 

“Oh God,” Hermione whimpered as Draco circled her clit, before inserting two fingers into her tight channel.

 

“So wet, baby. Are you this wet for me and Charlie?”

 

Hermione groaned, “Yes,” as Draco began plunging his fingers in and out of her, Charlie watching as he stepped out of his trousers and underwear, taking off his shoes and socks in the process.  

 

The dragon tamer reached for her breasts, his fingers plucking at her erect nipples as Hermione continued to groan at the pleasure Draco was administering to her pussy. Her hips thrust forward as the hand Draco had clasped about her hip moved down to pinch and rub at her swollen bud while Charlie twisted and pulled at her nipples.

 

“Oh… Merlin…  _ fuck _ … I’m going to come,” Hermione shouted as her belly clenched in anticipation, the pressure building as she shattered around Draco’s fingers, the walls of her cunt throbbing against her husband's dexterous fingers.

 

Draco removed his fingers, dripping with Hermione’s juices and reached over her shoulder to rub them against Charlie’s lips.

 

“Taste.” Draco insisted, smirking at the shocked look on the other man’s face, before Charlie opened his mouth, sucking Draco’s fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the digits and licking Hermione’s essence from them.

 

“Perfection.” Charlie groaned, noticing Hermione’s eyes widen at what was happening before Draco circled his wife’s waist and lifted her, turning them both and throwing her down onto the large bed.

 

While Hermione moved up the mattress and made herself comfortable, Draco removed the rest of his clothing, both men standing naked before her at the end of the bed. Her eyes flitted from one to the other, noticing the differences between them. 

 

Charlie was much larger than Draco, his shoulders broad and square, years of physical work bulking him out, whereas her husband was slimmer but no less toned. Draco had the perfect V shape leading from his hips down to the juncture of his thighs where his cock stood hard and proud surrounded by curly blond hair, his skin pale and soft. Charlie had a fine smattering of dark red hair leading from his navel down to his turgid length, also hard as rock in the moment.

 

Hermione noticed Charlie seemed thicker and would stretch her more than Draco, but her husband’s cock was slightly longer, and she knew it hit that sweet spot inside her every time he fucked her. Another dragon — a welsh green, by the looks of it — circled Charlie’s navel, tribal tattoos littered up the other side of his torso, making him look every bit as wild as he was. 

 

Draco moved around the side of the bed, climbing in behind Hermione and positioning her between his legs **.** He leaned back against the headboard, taking Hermione with him, her back pressed against his chest, his cock laying against the crease of her arse. He ran his hands along her thighs, coming to rest on her knees, gently spreading them.   
  
“Open up, baby,” he whispered. “Let Charlie see how beautiful you are.”

 

Hermione did as instructed as Charlie knelt at the bottom of the bed, his hands resting on her ankles before gliding them up her legs, until the fingers of one hand reached her glistening pussy, opening her up, coating his fingers in her come.

 

“Do you want him to put his mouth on you, Hermione?” Draco growled into her ear, his hands moving up her ribcage until they were cupping her breasts.

 

“Ye-yes,” she stuttered, as she watched Charlie lower his head to her centre, swiping his tongue up her. 

 

“Fuck,” Charlie muttered, closing his eyes and savouring the taste of her on his tongue, before diving back down.

 

“Oh,” Hermione shivered at the sensations rocketing through her body. 

 

Charlie wasted no time in licking her from bottom to top, the tip of his tongue running circles around her engorged bud, still sensitive from the orgasm she’d just had, before moving lower and sinking into her tight hole.

 

“Oh…  _ Oh, _ Charlie,” she cried out, her hips gyrating against his face as Draco teased her hard nipples, his tongue running up the side of her neck. “Harder, Draco,” she instructed her husband. 

 

She loved the way he would pinch her, the pleasure/pain causing a flood of sensations, her body writhing in ecstasy at the ministrations of both men. 

 

“Are you enjoying that, wife? Charlie has his tongue in your pussy. Does it feel good having him lick you out?” Draco’s filthy words in her ear were making her incoherent with lust as he pulled at her taut nipples, Charlie’s tongue laving across her folds.

 

Charlie used his mouth to suck her outer lips between his, nibbling on the pulsing flesh, before using the flat of his tongue to press hard against her clit, making Hermione scream as another orgasm tore through her. 

 

“Oh God, oh God,” she cried, thrusting herself against his mouth, her thighs tightening around his head as Charlie drew out her pleasure using small nips of his teeth on her pulsing bud. 

 

Raising his head from between her thighs, Charlie trailed his tongue up her torso, across her collarbone and up the side of Hermione’s neck until he licked at the seam of her lips and plunged in as she gasped and opened herself to him, letting her taste herself on his tongue. After a moment of passionately kissing her, Charlie sat back on his legs, grinning down at her flushed body.

 

“You taste unbelievable, Hermione. Like tangy honey, I could eat you out for hours.”

 

Draco frowned slightly at the wizards’ words;  _ he _ was the only one allowed to devour his wife’s delectable pussy for hours. The blond shifted slightly, pulling Hermione further up his body and sliding them both down the bed. His lips pressed hot, wet kisses to the underside of her ear, a place Draco knew made his witch wild. 

 

“Would you like us to fuck you now,  _ wife _ ?” He placed emphasis on  the word ‘wife’ trying to convey his dominance to the other man in the room. 

 

“Merlin, yes,” Hermione answered, shocked by how wanton she sounded. She’d like nothing better than to feel both of these men fuck her together. Her face flamed at the thought, and she lowered her head, muttering, “Both of you. At the same time.” 

 

“Of course, my love,” Draco grinned into the side of her neck, holding back a laugh at his wife’s embarrassment. After what Charlie had just done, there was no need. He reached for his wand on the nightstand and muttered a quiet lubrication spell, feeling Hermione’s arse slide against his thighs. Draco maneuvered her until she was kneeling over his lap, his hand fisting his hard cock as he encouraged her to lower herself towards him.

 

Hermione and her husband had indulged in anal sex a few times before, so she knew what to expect and didn’t clench when one of Draco’s fingers penetrated the tight hole of her arse, gliding his finger in and out before adding another, opening her up.

 

“Lower yourself onto me,” he told her, his chest heaving as the head of his cock pushed into the tight passage.

 

Hermione continued to press down, feeling Draco’s length fill her up in that dark, delicious place. When she’d seated herself completely upon him, she pulled her legs out from under her, lying back against her husband's firm chest.

 

Charlie crawled towards her, his hands smoothing up her legs to her hips, pulling her legs wider. Seeing Draco’s cock buried in Hermione’s arse, Charlie gave a silent prayer of thanks that he had been chosen by the blond to participate in this. He’d thought a lot over the years about what it would be like to fuck Hermione.

 

“Remember what I said, Charlie.” Draco growled. “You’re not allowed to finish in my wife.”

 

“No problem,” he grinned wickedly at the blond.

 

“She likes it when you talk dirty as well.” 

 

“You want this, Pages? Do you want all of this inside you? Do you want this stretching that sweet pussy of yours? Do you want my cock fucking you?” Charlie asked Hermione, seeing her watch him as his hand slid up and down his impressive girth, taking Draco at his word and watching her eyes widen at the filth coming from his lips.

 

“Yes, Gods yes,” Hermione moaned as Draco circled his hips, causing her core to clench in anticipation of Charlie entering her.

 

“Getting fucked by two men at the same time. How much do you want it?”

 

“I want it. I want it now,” Hermione moaned again. “Fuck me now.”

 

“Pages, we’re going to fuck you so hard you’re going to see stars.” As Charlie finished the sentence, he nudged his cock against her wet lips, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation of her. So tight. So hot. So wet. She felt indescribable.

 

Hermione continued to moan as Charlie entered her, the feeling of fullness making her pant hard. Both wizards gave her a second to adjust before Charlie winked at Draco, pulling out before thrusting back in as Draco used his hands on her hips to lift her slightly as he rammed into her arse. 

 

“Fuck… fuck… oh my…” Hermione cursed as the men in her assaulted her clenching body with their wild thrusts. 

 

“Oh baby.  _ Shit _ , you feel so good. So… fucking… tight.” Draco told her through clenched teeth. 

 

Charlie’s hands came up to her hips, threading his fingers through Draco’s and closing tightly as they moved her to their liking, Draco plunging in as Charlie pulled out. 

 

Hermione could feel them both so acutely, her heartbeat pounding at the frenzied, wild fucking they were giving her. 

 

Every thrust Charlie gave pushed against her sensitized clit, pushing her higher and higher until she couldn’t take any more. She came hard, her body clenching between the two wizards as she cried out, her walls pulsing against both Charlie and Draco. 

 

Draco hissed his pleasure as he came inside her arse, while Charlie quickly pulled out of her, stream after stream of his seed painting Hermione’s breasts and stomach, mindful of Draco’s request to not come inside her, he marked her a way  _ he _ would never forget.  

 

All three were panting heavily, their bodies convulsing with the aftershocks of their joined orgasms. Draco wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist, his face pressed into the side of her neck. 

 

“You are fucking amazing, Hermione,” he mumbled into her skin. 

 

“Truly, you are,” Charlie agreed, collapsing back at the bottom of the bed. 

 

“Gods… that was…” Hermione couldn’t form words for how good that was. 

 

Draco gently pulled out of her with a quiet groan, his arms still firmly wrapped around his wife as he rolled them to their sides and curled around her. His mouth was still at her neck, kissing, sucking, tasting her skin. It was a show of possession, but she couldn’t be arsed to care. 

 

Hermione felt Charlie’s hand circle her ankle, and she looked down to see his smiling face. He didn’t care either. He had been here for one thing only; her pleasure. And it was something that he — and Draco — had certainly achieved.

 

She was filthy, her front covered in Charlie’s seed, her arse dripping with Draco’s, but she had never felt more alive. The thought that two men could have made her feel like a goddess, like someone to be worshiped, astounded her. 

 

Her visions of having multiple lovers at once were sordid and dirty. But what she had just experienced was anything but. And having Draco watch as Charlie’s mouth tasted and teased and tumbled her over the edge, had been a bigger turn-on than she had expected.

 

And the feeling of them both inside her at once was a feeling that left her speechless, and had left her wondering what else she had missed out on. Charlie had stretched her in the most delicious way — thicker than Draco, but not able to reach the depths his long length always did. And Draco penetrating her in a way that she once thought taboo, even forbidden, was sure to leave her sated for days. 

 

She turned in Draco’s arms, wanting to see him, needing to look into his eyes and see that he was truly okay with what had happened. He was smiling, a completely satisfied, content smile.

 

“You were incredible,” he whispered. “So fucking incredible.”

 

“So were you,” Hermione touched his cheek. “I didn’t think it would be like that.”

 

He kissed her forehead, about to say more, but their gazes shifted as the bed dipped with Charlie’s movement.

 

“Charlie?” Hermione sounded alarmed. He had moved off the bed and was bending to retrieve his clothes. Had they insulted him by excluding him in the afterglow?

 

“It’s okay, Pages,” He leaned over and ran his hand over her calf. “You two need some time.”

 

She shook her head. “Please stay. Just for a bit.”

 

Charlie glanced at Draco, who simply nodded, and then pressed his lips once more to his wife’s forehead. 

 

Charlie didn’t think he could be jealous of anyone, but in that moment, a tiny pang twisted his stomach, and he knew that what these two had was something he doubted he would ever find. They were made for each other, the longing on their faces, the secret smiles that they shared, the way Draco was holding her, the way she looked at him like he was the only man on the planet. It was a perfection that he never thought he wanted, but now knew he would do his damndest to search for. 

 

With a quiet sigh, Charlie lay back down, moving up the bed to lay behind her. He left a space between them, not wanting to intrude on their intimacy, but reached his arm out to rest his hand between her shoulders. 

 

Hermione smiled at his touch. It was tentative, as if he felt he didn’t belong there. But after he had put his mouth  _ on _ her and his cock  _ in _ her, it seemed a little ridiculous. She reached her hand back, squeezing his hip, reassuring him that he was — for the time being at least — welcome in this bed. 

 

She thought she would have been exhausted, that having two men bring her to her peak over and over again would have put her into a near coma. But it seemed it had the opposite effect. She smiled at Draco. She had no clues about Charlie, but she knew Draco was capable, he’d proven that more than once.

 

Her hand slipped down between them, circling his flaccid length. His eyebrow raised and he smirked.

 

“What are you up to, Mrs. Malfoy?”

 

She felt Charlie move behind them, but didn’t look back. She assumed he had shifted so he could see what Draco was referring to. 

 

“Well, Mr. Malfoy,” she said coyly, “There’s one last thing I want.”

 

She pushed him gently to his back and moved to straddle his legs, her hand slowly moving over his stirring cock. 

 

“I want my husband to come inside me,” She turned to look at Charlie and grinned. “And I want you to watch.”

 

Both men groaned; Draco’s hips rolled up against her, and Charlie’s hand gripped his own cock and began stroking slowly. 

 

“Hermione, fuck!” Draco groaned, his cock growing steadily firmer with each stroke of her hand. 

 

She leaned down and kissed his chest, her tongue circling each of his nipples. 

 

“Hmmm,” she hummed into his skin. “That’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

 

She shifted forward, he wasn’t quite hard enough, but it would suffice. He would still finish inside her, just as she wanted, and she could draw out his pleasure until he was hard enough to do so. 

 

She lifted up on her knees and shifted her gaze back to Charlie, watching his face as she lowered herself down onto her husband’s throbbing length. 

 

“Fuck,” Charlie whispered under his breath, his hand moving faster, his breathing shallow.

 

Draco groaned again, his hands flying to her hips and holding her in place. But she was having none of it.

 

She began to rock her hips — forward and back, forward and back — loving the feeling of familiarity at Draco’s cock inside her. Charlie had felt amazing, but  _ this _ , this with Draco, the feeling of  _ him _ inside her, was all she truly ever wanted. 

 

Draco squeezed his eyes shut; his cock was sensitive, she knew, since all her own nerve endings were still fluttering with aftershocks, but she didn’t care. This could last mere seconds. She just needed to feel him spilling inside her, filling her with his release, as was his privilege.

 

Charlie rolled to his back, his hand frantic, but his eyes never moved from where she and Draco were joined. Hermione smirked; Charlie’s hips were thrusting in time with hers and Draco’s movements. 

 

“You like this, Charlie?” Hermione planted her hands on Draco’s chest and began to move faster. “You like watching this?”

 

Charlie groaned and gripped her thigh with his free hand. 

 

She threw her head back. With Draco’s cock inside her, Charlie’s hand on her thigh, she was closer than she thought. And her voice was rough when she groaned at Draco to “come, and come now.”

 

He didn’t disappoint. His eyes flew open and he gripped her hips with a bruising force. He thrust up, hard, his back arching and his shout loud in the room. Hermione’s own body reacted, clenching like a fist around him, both reaching their climaxes in unison. 

 

Hermione collapsed onto Draco’s chest, and his arms immediately slid around her, holding her flush against him. 

 

She peeked over at Charlie, and grinned. His face was contorted into a harsh grimace. One hand was still on her thigh, the other was still holding his cock. His stomach and chest were covered in his own release, and he was breathing hard.

 

“Hermione?” Draco’s voice was a dry choke. “Are you done now?”

 

Hermione snorted a laugh into his chest, and Charlie chuckled from beside them. 

 

“I fucking hope so,” Charlie turned to look at them. “I’m pretty sure I’ll die if she keeps going.”

 

“I’m done,” She giggled and pressed a kiss to Draco’s chest, then reached out to squeeze Charlie’s bicep. “I’m so incredibly done.”

 

* * *

  
Hermione’s body was tucked into Draco’s side. His arm was wrapped firmly around her, holding her close. The flames in the fireplace flickered, the glow spreading a soft light across the room.

 

She made a quiet humming noise and shifted, snuggling in closer, hugging him tighter. He stroked her back and turned his face to press his nose into her soft curls, inhaling deeply. He smiled. 

 

Vanilla.

 

They’d showered after Charlie left. Just the two of them under the warm spray of water. She didn’t say a word about what had happened, in fact, she said very little at all.

 

Draco wasn’t concerned. He knew she needed to line everything up in her head before she said a word about it. She had, however, not stopped touching him. Her hand on his arm, his chest, her arms wrapping around him and holding him close. 

 

He’d soaped up her sleek curves and shampooed her hair. He’d toweled her dry, then picked her up and carried her back to the bed. 

 

And now, the light scent of her vanilla shampoo made him huff out a laugh. 

 

“Something funny?” She murmured.

 

“Vanilla,” Draco said, breathing in the scent again. 

 

She giggled into his chest, her understanding instant. “That wasn’t very vanilla at all.”

 

He kissed her forehead, “So far from vanilla, you’ll have to change your shampoo.”

 

She smiled up at him and he cupped her jaw. 

 

“How are you feeling? You had quite the night."

 

“Yeah. That was…” She paused, her eyes still locked on his. He could see she was still working it over in her head, and he knew not to push her. 

 

But he didn’t have to.

 

She leaned up onto one elbow, her head resting on her palm. “Why Charlie? Why not another woman? Wouldn’t you have preferred that?”

 

Draco reached out and playfully tugged a lock of her hair. “Honestly, I did consider Pansy, but that may have been a little too weird.”

 

“Ah,  _ yeah _ . A little.”

 

He laughed at her expression. “And, two women would have been mainly for me. That wasn’t the point of this, this was for you.”

 

“And Charlie?” She prodded.

 

“I knew that he was someone you trust, and I also knew that he wouldn’t hurt you.”

 

She twisted her lips into a smile, “Plus, we rarely see him more than once a year.”

 

“There’s that,” Draco agreed. “But seriously, Hermione, do you know how incredible you were?”

 

“Really?”

 

His hand slid into her messy curls and he dragged her face to his, peppering her mouth with soft kisses. She closed her eyes. No other man had ever kissed her like Draco did. Not even Charlie during their wild night. 

 

Draco knew her, had seemed to have always known her. He knew her every need, knew what she loved, knew exactly how to make her feel like she was the only woman on the planet.

 

“Hermione, you were fucking perfect,” he said, curling her into his side. “I wasn’t sure if I could share you with anyone, but when I spoke to Charlie, he assured me that while he was mildly attracted to you, he had no interest in stealing another man’s wife.”

 

“Mildly attracted?” Hermione sounded indignant.

 

Draco chuckled. “He knew of your crush on him, but realised too late that he did think of you in… other ways.”

 

“Hmm,” She hummed thoughtfully and snuggled deeper into him. “He’s definitely too late.”

 

“Glad to hear.” Draco reached down and dragged her leg over his, attempting to pull her as close as possible. “Hermione?”

 

“Draco?”

 

Taking a deep breath, he hesitated. “Hermione, I shared you with Charlie this once, but I’m not sure I could do it again.”

 

Hermione nodded against his chest. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?” Draco was surprised at her lack of argument. He knew she had enjoyed herself, and he assumed she would want to do it again. 

 

She lifted her head, smiling at him. “Okay. But… maybe we could do this just  _ once _ more.” 

 

Draco gave her a resigned nod. He had promised to give her anything she desired, but this was something that he was now reluctant to ever do again. 

 

She bit her lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe we could do this once more, but maybe next time... it could be for your pleasure.”

  
  


*** HAPPY BIRTHDAY LABELLADONEX XXXX ***

  
  



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